


A Few Things That Never Happened To Ephram Brown (But Could Have, Maybe)

by lalejandra



Category: Everwood
Genre: Gen, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-11
Updated: 2004-04-11
Packaged: 2019-07-14 09:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra





	A Few Things That Never Happened To Ephram Brown (But Could Have, Maybe)

"Hey." Bright flicked his towel against the skinny ass of the kid next to him. "You're in my way."

"Whatever." The kid rolled his eyes.

"Listen, maybe no one explained to you the way that life works here." Bright stepped up to the kid, folded his arms across his chest. "I don't know how the locker room works wherever you're from, but in Everwood? When I tell you to move, you move."

The room silenced, and Bright smirked.

"You have my very most abject apologies." The boy rolled his eyes, but still didn't move. He turned away from Bright, opened his locker door, and began pulling out his clothes. Bright knocked his jeans from his hand, slammed him against the lockers. Bright felt his towel slipping off, but ignored it -- everyone here had seen his bare ass before.

"Hey," said the kid. "Step _off_."

"Whatever that means," said Bright, and stepped closer. "Didn't you hear me? I said, when I tell you to do something, you do it."

The kid snorted. "And I said, _whatever_. What are you gonna do? Beat the shit out of me because I won't do what you say?"

"Yes." Bright drew his fist back and punched the kid right in his mouth. The kid doubled over, but didn't even fight back. Bright pushed him back up against the wall, punched him in the stomach. The kid gagged, but still didn't fight back. Bright scowled. "Are you just gonna _take it_?"

The kid spit in his face, and when Bright wiped it away, his fingers were pink. Blood.

"That wasn't smart," said Bright, in front of a chorus of "oooh".

"Fuck you," said the kid. He was breathing unsteadily but still breathing.

"Hey, fag," said Bright, and shook him. "Do what I tell you."

"Very clever," said the kid. "You think calling me gay is an insult? This place really is Bumblefuck Nowhere."

Bright felt the crowd of bodies pressing on him, heating the air. It wasn't just that he couldn't back down, it was that his reputation as a badass was at stake, and he couldn't let some fag with purple hair get the drop on him.

"Well, _fag_ ," he said, "if you're that hyped to be gay, why don't you suck my fucking dick and get it over with?"

The kid's mouth twisted into a smirk. There was blood on his lips and it made him look like he was wearing lipstick. Bright felt a hand on his cock and took a step back, took his hands off the kid's shoulders. The kid sank to his knees, and wrapped his mouth around Bright's dick, took him all the way around.

Dude.

Bright had just been kidding about the gay thing. Apparently some people couldn't take a joke. Bright kept his eyes open the entire time, which was embarrassingly short. And the kid swallowed, which Bright had only ever seen in porn. Girls in Everwood never wanted to go down, much less swallow.

When the kid wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand, and smirked, Bright backhanded him.

"Who's next then?" Bright said to the silent crowd.

*

Ephram yawned and stretched, threw off the duvet and padded into the bathroom. Harry was already there, with Ron in tow.

"I cannot wait to have a butterbeer," said Ron around a mouthful of toothpaste.

Ephram grunted, and scratched his chest while he pissed. Neville poked his head out of his shower stall. "I want to get another frog!" he said. "Trevor needs a friend."

"How about you, Ephram?" said Harry.

"I'm just looking forward to a day without Snape." Ephram washed his hands, then his face, then stared at himself in the mirror.

"Hear hear!" said Ron, and he spat out the toothpaste. "Do you think Snape knows how to get through an entire day without taking points?"

"I'm sure he'll take points from Gryffindor anyway," said Harry. "Ten points for not being here for me to yell at, Mr. Brown!"

"Fifteen points for not letting Malfoy trip you on the way to Hogsmeade," replied Ephram, affecting Snape's heavy accent. The other boys snickered. Ephram washed his face again.

Harry caught his eye in the mirror. "Are you okay?" he mouthed.

"Yeah," said Ephram. He examined his teeth, decided not to bother brushing them. Harry sidled up to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure," said Ephram. "I was just thinking about Fred and George."

Harry grinned, but blushed, and Ephram rolled his eyes.

"No, I mean... when my mom made my dad promise to move to England, I don't think she expected that the British Wizarding community would pull me into their fold and turn me gay." Ephram ran a hand through his hair, patted it down.

"At least you're _dating_ ," said Harry. "I can't get anyone to look at me except to see my scar."

"Not even... Malfoy?" Ephram cocked an eyebrow at Harry.

"That great bloody poof?" said Harry. "Not bloody likely."

"Just checking." Ephram turned to leave, then paused. "You'll cover for me this afternoon?"

"While you go to the joke shop? Sure," said Harry, and ran water over his toothbrush.

*

"Look," said Ephram sharply. "I really don't want to be here, and you don't want me here, so let's just pretend for two weeks that we don't see each other, all right?"

His cousin's foster brother clenched his jaw and scowled, but Ephram didn't back down. Dealing with a pseudo-hoodlum from California's version of Brooklyn was easy after Everwood. Especially the last few weeks of school, with everyone looking at him as though it was _Ephram_ who had killed Colin, instead of his father.

"Just stay away from me," he finally said, and Ephram rolled his eyes.

"That was the plan," Ephram replied. "Or did you miss that part?"

One minute they were scowling at each other and the next minute the other kid was throwing a punch. Ephram blinked up at the ceiling; the kid -- Ryan? -- was flexing his fist. "You just leave me the fuck alone."

"Jesus." Ephram wiggled his jaw, blinked his eyes, and sat up. "That hurt."

"That's the point," snarled the kid.

Ephram sat up slowly, rolling his shoulders, cracking his neck. "Don't do that again. I can't punch back. If I hurt my hands, I'm fucked."

"Then you're fucked," said Ryan. He stood there, flexing his hands into fists, until Ephram was standing again. "Now beat it."

"Look, dude," said Ephram. "I'm sorry for whatever I did. But -- "

Ryan took a step toward him and Ephram told himself to turn and leave, but just couldn't make his feet move.

*

Ephram slid onto the piano bench and took a deep breath, lost himself in the music. Who cared that it was Carnegie Hall? That thousands of people had paid money to watch him play the piano? He thought about Will, thought about the music, thought about the way his fingers moved on the keys. He played a couple of classics, played some reinterpretations of pop songs, played one piece from the movie he'd finished scoring. And when he was finished, some people in the front row actually threw roses, which had never happened to him before.

He bowed, walked off the stage. His heart pounded and his blood raced and he couldn't catch his breath. He pushed through press, through staff, pushed away his publicist, rested against the door to his dressing room, all of the noise and commotion blocked out. He took a deep breath, then another, then another.

"Ephram?" His manager knocked on the door. "Can I come in? I have someone who'd like to meet you."

Ephram opened the door, and Stella came in with a tall, broad man in a tux. Ephram's jaw dropped.

"Ephram Brown, meet Viggo Mortensen. Viggo, Ephram." Stella stepped back as the two men shook hands.

"Mr. Brown, that was wonderful," said Viggo. "I'm a big fan."

"Me. Uh. I. Yes." Ephram swallowed. "Uh. Sir."

Viggo smiled. "That was my friend Elijah's movie that you scored."

"Yes. I know." Ephram made himself stop shaking Viggo's hand. Viggo was smiling, the King of fucking Men was smiling at Ephram!

"Maybe we could get a drink later?" said Viggo. "I wanted to talk to you about -- "

"Yes," said Ephram. He looked at Stella, who nodded. "Yes, definitely."

*

"No," said Ephram.

"You don't get to say no," said Andy.

"Yes, I do." Ephram stood up. "And I say no. No, I am not leaving our apartment. No, I am not moving to Colorado. No, I don't care why. No, no, no." Ephram shook his head. "I will stay with relatives, I will live by myself, I -- I -- I'll run away and live on the streets."

"Andy." Jacob stood, put his hand on Ephram's shoulder. "He can stay with us for a while. Until you're settled in Colorado. Until -- "

"Jacob, he's my son and I will decide what he will do."

"No you won't!" said Ephram. "I will decide what I will do, and I am going to stay -- "

"Andy." Jacob's voice was soft, but firm. Ephram blinked away tears. "Andy, let the boy stay. Take Delia, get settled. Let Ephram grieve here with us."

  



End file.
